All Is Forgiven
by durr.its.carol
Summary: (Rated T for language. stilesxderek) One fateful night, Stiles is attacked and only Derek is there to save him, with the only solution is: to turn him with The Bite. But, what only Stiles and Derek knows, you have to find out for yourself.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey guys, this is my first story and I would love it if you could tell me if it needs changes or if it's any good. Much appreciated!_

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"Please, Derek, I don't wanna die. Please, help me." Stiles pleaded as he bled profusely on the ground. There were deep claw marks from his neck to his hips. Each mark was torn to the point that there wasn't anything to do to save Stiles. "Please, Der-"Stiles started, but was interrupted by the tell-tale signs that Stiles was almost dead. Blood poured out of his mouth and splattered all over Derek's face.

Derek looked down at Stiles, shocked that Stiles had taken the blow instead of Derek. How was he supposed to tell the Sheriff that his son was dead by supernatural beings that shouldn't exist? That there was only one thing that can save Stiles, but Derek was too worried about the fact that Stiles didn't want to be a werewolf. How was he even supposed to process that fact that Derek realized he _loved_ Stiles? Another cough brought Derek out of his reverie.

"Please! Derek I don't wanna die! Just please!" Stiles cried out before he fell silent.

Derek flailed, _flailed _when Stiles went quiet. He quickly collected his thoughts and took a deep breath. He felt his teeth elongate and his face shift just a little. Before he could second guess his choice he bit Stiles near his hip, where the skin was still somewhat intact. He was slowly leeching the pain away as he did this. Once he was done, he pulled out his phone and called Scott.

"I need you to get here, quickly. Stiles may still be in trouble."

"_What do you mean-"_Scott started but was cut off by Derek hanging up the line.

Derek looked at Stiles, hoping that he was still breathing, but he couldn't bear it to touch him. Knowing that he was in this condition because of Derek. He didn't… His head snapped up to find Scott in the tree line.

"Dude, are you okay?" Scott called out as he starting walking towards Derek.

Derek looked up and the expression on his face was a devastating one. "I-I-I turned Stiles. Well, I bit him. I'm not sure if… If it's going to work. I… I'm sorry."

Derek got up and walked a few feet away. Scott looked at him, puzzled. "Why are you sorry?"

"Because it wasn't supposed to happen like this." Derek gave Scott a fierce look. "He was supposed to ask to be turned on his own terms, when he wanted to, not when he was dying."

Scott looked down at his best-friend and listened to his sluggish heartbeat. Hoping, praying that the bite would turn him, not prolong the inevitable that was going to happen. Stiles was only seventeen. He should have lived his life without the worries of the supernatural, without knowing that his life was in the balance every day that he was around the pack. Scott sighed and bent to pick up the unconscious boy, but stopped because he heard a growl come out of Derek's mouth.

"No. I will take him. Leave him be." Derek spat out behind his growl. "This is my fault. I'm the one who did this to him."

"Dude, you had to change him, it was the only way." Scott said sympathetically.

He doesn't understand, Derek thought. He doesn't know. This is going to haunt him for the rest of his life. He knows that Stiles knows, yet, he didn't seem mad or disappointed. It was like he knew it was going to happen. Like he was hoping it would happen, just not so drastically. Derek's mind was spinning out of control. He lifted the boy up so, so gingerly and carefully walked as he cradled him in his arms. He looked down at him with sadness and… And… love? Was that what he was feeling? Love, for his mate. Wait, what? Mate? Where the hell is this coming from?

Scott, sensing Derek's distress whimpered from behind him and put a hand on his Alpha's shoulder to comfort him. "It's going to be okay. He's going to be okay. I can hear his heartbeat. It's getting stronger and stronger by the minute. He's going to make a good werewolf. Especially with him being the spark and all." Scott whispered.

Derek's distress didn't lessen. He knows Scott was only trying to comfort him. To reassure him that he did the right thing by turning Stiles. But how was Scott supposed to know? He wasn't there. He wasn't there to stop him. To stop him from losing control. No one was there to stop Derek from attacking him. From nearly killing his one and only mate.

Silent tears streamed down Derek's face as he made his way back to the mansion. The mansion has been rebuilt during the summer before the Alpha pack had attacked them. He finally realized that the house was in ruins and that he shouldn't be living there. Well, Stiles had said he shouldn't be living there, especially when Stiles had gotten stuck through the floor. Not just your foot being stuck in the floor, his lower half had fallen through and they had to cut up the floor very carefully just to get the kid out. Only he would have gotten himself in that situation. It was even more dangerous because the basement was right underneath him.

He looked back on the memory with a fond expression because that was the day Derek had realized that Stiles was his mate. He felt happiness and he was devastated because if he wouldn't have cared so much about Stiles, then they wouldn't be in this situation right now. He wouldn't have broken down the walls he had so carefully built up. After Kate, he vowed to never partake in any kind of relations with anyone. Not family, not friends, just an Alpha and his pack.

Derek could feel the sorrow and sympathy from Scott, but it only made it worse. How could anyone, even Stiles, love him after what he'd done? He didn't mean it, honestly. But the wolf took over, smelling the stranger, the other wolf, encroaching on his mate. Yet, Stiles was still fair game. Derek never claimed him, knowing that Stiles still doesn't particularly like him, even after the Alpha pack. Hell, Derek doesn't know if Stiles "swung" that way.

He sighed deeply and listened to Stiles' heartbeat. It was going strong, pumping the blood through his veins, a sign that the bite took. The flesh that was torn had long since healed. Knowing that with Derek being there, their bond healed the wounds caused by an Alpha and of course, the energy that is being created by the turning of a new werewolf.

The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. He remembered Stiles being adamant about not being a werewolf. Every time he was asked, he would vehemently deny the desire to become part of the supernatural world. Yes, he was the spark, but what the hell does that mean?

He's looked in all the ancient texts, everything on the internet, and the third to get information out of his "dead" uncle. Even Deaton wasn't very informative, at all. Always speaking in riddles and never answering their questions.

By the time he finished that thought, he had reached the steps of the mansion. "Scott, please get the door," Derek asked quietly.

Scott nodded and reached to open the door with a puzzled expression. Shuffling sideways, as to not hit Stiles' head on the doorjamb, Derek made his way through the doorway. Stiles was cradled in his arms and all Derek could think about was that he should be doing this in another situation, with Stiles conscious.

Derek could see it, but only in his imagination. Stiles looking beautiful and perfect in his tux, walking towards the alter, towards Derek. Then, Stiles smiling, no beaming, as Derek slipped the ring onto his slender finger, making the contract complete. Flashing forward to Derek carrying Stiles in his arms, into _their _house, up _their_ stairs, into_ their_ bedroom, and finishing their mating ritual.

But, as he laid Stiles onto the bed in Derek's room, he knew that wasn't going to happen. Not when everyone would find out about the horrific thing he had done. He went to the adjacent bathroom and grabbed a couple hand-towels and a large bowl of warm water. Carefully, he made it back to the room and sat down next to the still unconscious Stiles to clean the blood from his skin. The water quickly turned a light pink and he felt even worse.

Before, he could get another thought in, Stiles' breathing hitched and he slowly opened his eyes. Derek's arm recoiled from Stiles' skin and he put the bowl and towels onto the floor. As Derek's arm retracted, Stiles' eyes flashed a brilliant blue. To Derek, Stiles was perfect, in every way. He was everything to him. But, Stiles doesn't feel that way, especially with Derek. Never in Stiles' life would he consider Derek.

"Der-Derek. What's going on?" Stiles rasped out. He looked at Derek with a trusting gleam in his eyes.

"Do you remember what happened," he replied bitterly.

Stiles looked at him, puzzled. "Of course, I was attacked and you changed me to save me. You made me like you."

Derek looked at him, "Yeah, but do you remember what happened? Do you remember the field?"

Stiles nodded, but put a finger to his lips. _Shhh..._ Derek looked at him incredulously. _Scott is downstairs, listening. _Stiles mouthed at him.

"Scott, bring some water and put on a pot of coffee, please?" Stiles said, knowing that he would hear him perfectly fine from upstairs.

Derek heard Scott shuffling around in the kitchen and sighed. How? How was he supposed to process this? What is even going on? Stiles intertwined their fingers together and gave Derek's hand a reassuring squeeze. He then motioned to him to keep cleaning the blood.

He picked up a towel, wringing it out and resumed the removal of the now dried blood. Scott was heard coming up the stairs with a pitcher of water and a couple glasses. He walked in through the door and set the items down onto the bedside table. Scott was about to sit next to Stiles until he gave him a look and motioned for Scott to leave.

"Don't just go downstairs and wait. Go home, but before, tell my dad that I'm with Derek and that I will be home tomorrow morning. Explain to him what's going on. Tell him _everything_ and don't leave anything out. If he tries to leave, tell him that it's not safe. That I promise to be home and will explain even further if I need to. Please, Scott," he pleaded with Scott as he opened his mouth to object."Please do this for me. I really need your help. Anyways, Derek is here to tell me all about my new situation and how I can handle it. He can help me here; I need your help elsewhere. So, go, before my dad freaks out."

Scott looked at Stiles and bowed his head in submission. Derek gazed in wonder at what his mate had done. No snarky comment, no fighting back or defiance, just immediate submission. Scott just simply turned and walked out of the room.

As soon as Scott shut the front door and left the Hale property completely, Stiles sighed in relief and looked at Derek earnestly.

"Stiles, I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I… It wasn't supposed to happen. This…" Derek started but Stiles shushed him.

"I know. You are probably disgusted with yourself and that you think I would never forgive you. But you are wrong. I love you too much to let this come between us. I forgive because I understand." Stiles said calmly.

"But, you… I… this… No. No, I'm not letting you just forget about it." Derek said defiantly.

"Yes, you will, because I said so. We are equals. You know how I know that? Because we are mates. Yeah, as soon as I turned, I felt the bond. The one thing keeping us here and not fighting. I know you want to fight, but don't. I love you and I hope you love me, too. I take part of the blame. I knew what I was doing. By associating with that other, wolf." Stiles said the last sentence with a disgusted tone. "I was trying to get you to see that I love you too. But you were so blind. So, so blind. Stop blaming yourself. We are both at fault here. Just accept that and go to sleep." Stiles finished with a smile in his voice.

He grabbed both of Derek's hands and began to pull him down little by little until he was lying on the bed awkwardly. "Get your ass up here, Hale." Stiles playfully whined. Derek just shook his head, still in shock and lay down next to him. Stiles then scooted up to Derek's side and threw an arm around Derek's waist. Derek was rigid and Stiles moved to nuzzle his mate's neck.

Ever so slowly, Derek began to relax and wrapped both of his arms around Stiles. He lifted him up so that Stiles was lying on top of Derek's and Stiles made himself comfortable. With his head on his mate's chest, Stiles fell asleep within seconds.

Derek was shocked at what just happened. What did happen? Why isn't Stiles angry with him?

"Stop thinking so loudly. I'm not going to get any sleep with you shouting your thoughts." Stiles mumbled into Derek's chest. He moved just the slightest and fell back asleep. Derek looked down at Stiles and was amazed that he has someone, a Stiles, to love him. But at what cost?

"Shhh. God Derek, calm down." Stiles mumbled again. Finally, he laid his head back against the pillows, not knowing what to do. He stared at the ceiling, hoping it would give him the answers he was looking for.


	2. Chapter 2

Soon thereafter, Derek had fallen asleep out of pure exhaustion. But, it felt like he hadn't gotten any sleep when he was woken by a pounding at the front door. He looked around to see that Stiles had slid off of him in the middle of the night, but had curled into Derek's side with his head resting on Derek's stomach. Sighing, he shook Stiles awake.

"Stiles, wake up. Come on, you've got to get up now." Derek said firmly. Stiles had attempted to move, but collapsed onto the bed once again and mumbled about crimes against the sleeping, whatever that means. The pounding on the door wasn't relenting, so Derek decided to tell Stiles who was at the door.

"Stiles, your dad is here. He's pounding on the door. Can't you hear that?"

Stiles jumped up and yelled, "Fuck! Dammit the hell! I told Scott to keep him at bay until I made it home this morning." He rolled off the bed and started to rifle through Derek's dresser. "Aha!" He proclaimed as he found a T-shirt. Derek was going to complain, but the wolf was humming, so he gave a small smile.

But, to make matters worse, Derek said, "It's not the morning, it's three in the afternoon."

Stiles froze in place and didn't move for nearly a whole minute. Derek moved slowly to wrap his arms around him and nuzzle his neck to calm him. "Hey, hey. It's going to be fine. Things are going to be okay. Your dad will understand. Just calm down." He reassured his mate.

Stiles finally thawed and slipped the shirt over his head and readjusted it in place. With a huff, he opened the door, with Derek in tow, and made his way down the stairs. Derek gave him a light shove towards the living room and motioned him to make himself comfortable. Stiles found his way to a huge armchair and numbly sat down into it. Derek gave him one last look before he opened the door to a very disgruntled Sheriff.

"Sheriff." Derek said.

"Derek, where the hell is my son?!" The Sheriff yelled at him.

"He's in the living room. Please, calm down. He's still trying to adjust to the situation." Derek said quietly.

"I don't give a damn. Don't tell me how to handle my son. I'm his father, I know him. You don't." The Sheriff said. "By the way, Scott told me almost everything. I want answers. Now. And what the hell is going on?"

Derek looked at the Sheriff and motioned for him to enter the house. He gave a Derek a look that said he didn't need his permission, but thank you anyways. The Sheriff shuffled inside and looked at the house in wonder. The last time he had seen it, it was still engulfed in flames and he was trying to comfort a scared little boy and his teenage sister, Laura. That was her name. It's a shame that Laura's gone now. Maybe they wouldn't be in this situation if she were still here, he thought solemnly. He shook that thought out of his head and saw Stiles in the armchair in the furthest corner of the room.

He looked at his son in curiosity, but took a step back when Stiles' eyes flashed that brilliant blue. To Derek he was breathtaking, but to the Sheriff, his own son scared him. Both of the werewolves could smell the fear rolling off the Sheriff in waves, but it was tainted with another emotion, concern. Derek longed for the days that he had someone to love him in fatherly affection, but gone were those days.

"Son, what's going on?" The Sheriff broke the heavy silence. Derek looked at Stiles and Stiles started what they have been waiting for all along.

"Dad, there are things in this world that are right in front of you, but you choose not to see. Supernatural things that can explain everything. Right now, it's one of those things." Stiles paused to look at his father meaningfully. "Dad, I hate to tell you this but I'm a werewolf. I was attacked by something last night," Stiles gives Derek a look. "Derek saved me last night, but not without a cost. I- I was dying, Dad, _dying._ And I was so afraid, but Derek was there to help me. I begged and pleaded with him, to turn me and he did." Stiles' voice trailed off and he hung his head.

The Sheriff was speechless. How, how could his son do this to him? Lying for almost two years about what he's doing, where he's been, and it's all because of Derek Hale. "Derek, please tell me he's lying."

"Sir, he isn't lying. It's true. All of it is. Scott and Isaac Lahey, including I, are werewolves." Derek said quietly from behind him. " I had to change Stiles or he was going to die. He was dying and I couldn't have that on my head." Stiles sharp intake of breath broke him off and he looked up at the Sheriff with a look of desperation for understanding.

In the blink of an eye, the Sheriff spun on his heel and pulled his gun out of his holster. All Derek could do was just stand there and take the bullet that fired out of the weapon. Pain blossomed in his left shoulder. He just stood there and didn't move. Another shot was fired out of the chamber and there was pain in his abdomen. Blood seeped out of the wounds and Derek didn't say a word. He just let the Sheriff get it out of his system.

Stiles finally unfroze and scrambled to get to Derek's side. The Sheriff didn't see, but Derek saw Stiles grab his middle and he was light on using his arm. He could feel the slight pain from Derek, just a ghost of it.

"Dad?! What the hell?! Just calm the fuck down. He's not hurting anyone, just leave him alone." Stiles screamed at his father.

Stiles took off the shirt he was wearing and tore it in two, so he could try and stop the bleeding. Derek gritted his teeth and told Stiles, "Go get the first aid kit. There are tweezers in there to get the bullets out before I heal."

Stiles hesitantly got up and went to the hall closet at the base of the stairs. He found the kit on the top shelf of the rack and came back to the living room with it. While this had happened, the Sheriff had dropped to the floor and stared at the gun in his hands.

Methodically, Stiles worked at tearing the shirt of Derek as to not cause anymore damage. He then took the tweezers out of the kit and proceeded to dig into Derek's flesh and pull the spent bullets out before the skin could heal over. After the rounds were out, Stiles cleansed the wounds and patched them up with gauze so they don't get infected. "Stiles, they're fine. Don't worry about it." Derek said defeated.

"Dad! Look what you've done. Don't you understand, when you hurt him, you hurt me. You have to understand, you can't change this. You can't change me." Stiles said to his father.

The Sheriff looked at his son and just sighed. "Son, I love you, but, I don't know what to do with all of this." He gestured around him. "I-I need time. I-" He abruptly got up and made his way to the door. "Just, give me time." The Sheriff gave his son one last look before he walked out the door.

"Dad. Dad! Come back! Please, we can talk about this!" Stiles yelled out as he followed his father out the door.

Derek looked out the bay window to see Stiles reach out towards his father. His hand connected with his arm and the Sheriff whipped around and slapped his son in the face. Stiles stopped and just stared at his father incredulously. The Sheriff gave him an apologetic look and got into his truck to leave. "Please son, just give me time." Derek heard him say as he started the truck and drove away. Stiles just sunk to the ground and cried.


	3. Chapter 3

_I know, it's a little short, but hopefully the next chapter will be a bit longer. Also, I wanted to say thank you for the amazing reviews I got from y'all! They help me come up with ideas faster and faster! Please keep it up! Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Teen Wolf. _

Stiles had come inside after 20 minutes and started to clean the kitchen. No matter what Derek would do or say, he couldn't get him to stop cleaning the damn kitchen. So after dealing with it for nearly two hours, Derek pleaded with him to stop.

"Please, Stiles. Just come in here and sit down. We don't have to talk about it, but please, just stop cleaning the house. Just, please." Stiles put down the sponge he was using when he heard Derek's voice breaking at the end. He turned around to face Derek and leaned against the counter.

"What am I supposed to do? How am I to get Dad to understand that I'm still me, just a different species?" Stiles said, sounding utterly defeated. Derek felt useless, not being able to comfort his mate.

Stiles looked up at Derek, hoping he could give him answers, but his head hung in disappointment when Derek didn't say anything. He then turned around to pick up the sponge again, but stopped when he felt Derek's arms wrap around his waist.

With his chin resting on Stiles' shoulder, he whispered, "Just give your dad a day or two. It's going to take a while for him to adjust. Hell, remember when Scott's mom found out about him. She didn't talk to him for weeks. At least your dad came to see if you were alright."

Stiiles thought about this and just nodded, tears running down his face. Derek's hand came up and wiped away the warm, salted water staining Stiles' face. Even a small gesture like this caused Stiles to turn around and put his face in the crook of Derek's shoulder. Derek didn't mind that his mate was staining his shirt, he just wanted him to stop hurting. But, to his dismay, Stiles stopped not even five minutes after he started crying. He looked up at Derek and smiled meekly.

Derek was speechless. So Stiles took the initiative and lightly pecked him on the lips. Again, again, and again. Finally, Derek responded by kissing him a little more strongly. Stiles smiled into the kiss and deepened it. But, before anything could progress, Scott burst through the front door, disgruntled.

Stiles and Derek flew apart as they heard the door slam back into place. "I'm so sorry, Stiles. I fell asleep and I woke up to the truck firing up and before I could do anything, he was gone. I-I ran here, but I guess I didn't get here fast enough. I'm so, so sorry." Scott cried out as he tried to catch his breath.

Stiles just looked at Scott and said, "Well, great job you did. Dad doesn't want to see me. He told me to give him a few days and that he's get back to me soon. Seriously? How am I supposed to handle my one and only parent not wanting me? Huh?"

Scott looked at Stiles increulously, "Do you seriously have to say that? Only a few days? Try handling five weeks! I didn't have my mother there to help me for five fucking weeks. So don't tell me how to handle something like this!"

Derek listened to them exchange a few more words before he interupted them, "Shut up! Both of you. I don't need to be hearing a pissing contest between you two right now. Because, right now we are trying to figure out what to do about Stiles' dad. He needs as much information as we can give him. So Scott, since your'e so willing to help out, go to the library and start up the research all about werewolves. Stiles, please, just calm down. Go take a hot shower or bath or something. Just relax."

Both looked at him and Scott scrambled towards the library in the west wing of the mansion. Stiles grabbed Derek's hand and squeezed it before going upstairs. Derek leaned against the counter and pinched the bridge of his nose. How he got himself into this, he doesn't made his way up the stairs and into their bedroom. The thought put a falter in his footsteps. _Their bedroom._ His wolf inside hummed with the satisfaction of Stiles finally admitting he was his mate, but still wanted to finish the declaration. All in time, Derek thought to himself.

Derek smiled and hummed tunelessly while going through his closet to find something Stiles could wear. He pulled out a couple jeans, but none would fit him. So he settle on sweatpants and another t-shirt out of his middle dresser drawer. He put them on the bed and grabbed a pair of boxer-briefs out of his top drawer and put them next to the clothes. He heard the shower going, but no other sounds came out of the bathroom.

He quietly walked over to the bathroom door that was located on the wall opposite of the bed. He listened intently and heard sniffling from inside the room. He was going to knock, but he hesitated. His fist was about to fall upon the door, but before he could do anything, the door flew open and a half-naked Stiles rushed into his arms and held on for dear life. Yet, all he could do was hold Stiles and let him cry.

Derek pulled them back towards the bed and before sitting down he pushed the clothes to the floor. He scooted all the way up to the headboard and let Stiles make himself comfortable so that he wouldn't have aches later. He wrapped his arms around Stiles once again and rested his chin on Stiles' head. They sat like that for god knows how long, but after a while, Stiles' breathing slowed and Derek gently got out from underneath him. He tucked him into the bed and shut the bedroom door as he left.

He went downstairs to the library to see how much Scott had gotten done with the task he gave him. He walked through the long hallway to the west wing and reached the heavy doors that had actually stayed in tact during the fire. His parents had reinforced the library and other rooms because werewolves. It helped to have a soundproof room here and there when you wanted to talk about things or keep the ancient books that his family had collected over the years, safe.

He pushed the doors open with no effort at all and his gaze rested on Scott immersed in a book. Derek stood there for nearly ten minutes before he cleared his throat to get Scott's attention. He head whipped up and he exclaimed, "I found it! I found it!"

Derek looked at him puzzled. What? Scott got up excitedly and pulled Derek down into the chair opposite of him. "I know what the "spark" means!"


	4. Chapter 4

_Well, I'm obviously not a reknowned writer, but still having high hopes that I'm doing exceptionally well. Comment with any discrepancies or just tell me how well it's going! I'd appreciate it if you had any other ideas, promise to cred! DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Teen Wolf._

Derek looked at Scott, trying to comprehend the meaning behind what he said. "So, the spark means that Stiles is magic?"

"Well, sorta. The only way to have have it is by the passing through generations. It's usually the females who get it, but very rarely the males will. Being the spark isn't exactly magic, but it is at the same time. It's kinda like the good witch in _The Wizard of Oz._If Stiles believes it will happen, it will actually happen. Yet, because he is a male, it will be significantly stronger than any female's ability." Scott explained.

Derek sat down in a chair opposite of Scott and took the book out of his hands. He read over the text, confirming that, yes, they found an answer. A weight felt like it was lifted off his shoulders. Why he was so worried about it he doesn't quite know. Maybe it's because he didn't know if Stiles was considered dangerous with these kinds of abilities, he doesn't know.

"Then," Scott added. "Imagine the power he's got now. Especially with him being a werewolf and all. He's almost officially mated and of course, pack magic."

Derek settled even more in the chair and started to rub his temples. Not because he has a headache, but because he doesn't know what to do with this information that was just given to him. "So, is there anything in the books that say he's dangerous? That he could potentially, I don't know, end the world or something?"

"Umm… not that I know of." Scott said skeptically.

"So there is a possibility?" Derek asks him.

All Scott had to answer with was a shrug. Shaking his head, Derek got up to go and check on Stiles. He looked at the clock and realized that he was in the library for nearly an hour. Slowly, he walked up the stairs, making himself known as to not startle Stiles if he was awake. Eventually, he made to their bedroom door and he unhurriedly opened the door and peeked inside.

Stiles turned over in his sleep so he was facing Derek. His mouth was slightly opened and the stress was gone. He looked very peaceful and Derek wished that Stiles wouldn't have had to deal with the whole "supernatural" bull that has become their lives. Yes, Stiles had been reminded that he was only human and he couldn't do much. Derek was the one who had told him this many, many, times, yet he never listened. Derek had to admit that most of Stiles' plans were ingenius and that they worked out in a seriously twisted way. But, what Derek didn't warn him about was the danger that are his friends.

Hell, before Stiles only just liked him enough to work with him. Well, at least Derek thinks that. But anyways, the one thing that Stiles was not careful about was the fact he was with werewolves every freaking day. That's has to take a toll on a human, but Stiles muddled through it mostly unharmed, not speaking about the incident that had happened last night.

Derek remembers it well. It was the night after the Alpha pack attack. Stiles had somehow gotten the best of three out of ten werewolves and killed them. But, in the process, Boyd and Erica were not spared. They had gotten in the way to save Stiles and had taken the brunt of the attack. After that, Stiles went berserk. He killed then single-handedly and then puked. When the rest were either killed or run off, Stiles was still in the clearing of the woods. He had gotten up and stumbled to the treeline and sat back down, faing away from the aftermath. He looked up at the sky and he started crying. Derek knew to leave him alone when he was like this.

But, when he heard his breating hitch violently and his heartrate pick up into overtime, Derek knew that something was wrong. He rushed over to him kneeled next to him, freaking out about what to do. Yet, the only thing that calmed Stiles was the fact that Derek pulled him onto his lap and embraced him. Murmuring assurances into his ear and saying that everything was going to be fine. His breathing finally had slowed down and tears streamed down his face. He looked up and Derek and muttered a thank you before got up and he walked away.

Derek stared at Stiles' departing form and looked around at the damage that has been done. He felt the fear and sadness rolling off Stiles, yet he couldn't bring himself to follow Stiles to wherever he was going.

He quietly backed out of the room and closed the door. Derek sauntered to the bathroom and turned on the light. Looking into the mirror, he saw a ghost of himself. Dark eyes and a gaunt face. He sighed and turned on the water to the bathroom sink. Cupping his hands, Derek filled them with the cold water and splashed his face, cleaning away the grime. After he turned off the water, he backed up against the wall and slid down into a sitting position.

Derek hung his head into his hands and small tears escaped from his eyes. All he could think about was the mistake he had made. The tears turned to sobs and still, he thought about what had happened last night. He wished he could go back and fix everything, but the past is the past. You can't change what happened. But he could sure try to make up for it, but how?

How could he comfort his mate when he cannot stop thinking that he was the one who had caused all this? How can he make everything alright when all he wants to do is give up and start over without any repercussions? He reminds himself everyday that he is the reason that his family had died and that Laura had died. Now added to the list was the mistake of attacking Stiles, causing him to be a werewolf.

He looked up to the ceiling and was thankful that people knew to leave him be. But, thinking back on it, he hadn't cried like this since he was fifteen and his family had died. Why now? How can Stiles have this much influence on his emotions, making him a big mess? Still pondering all this, Derek stayed right where he was and just cried out all the pent up tears.

Hours later, Stiles had woken up, almost forgetting where he was. He stared at the ceiling for God knows how long, contemplating the inevitable. He knew that he'd have to face the music sooner or later. He knows that Derek had been wallowing in his emotions, he knows that because he felt them as he slept. It made it seem like a bad dream. He didn't want Derek to feel this way.

Yes, it was his fault in a way, but Stiles was the cause of it. He knew how Derek felt, but wanted him to actually acknowledge him and look where it got him. He knows that his father will be in even more danger because of the fact that his dad now knows about werewolves and a little of the supernatural world. Alas, all he could do was work out the kinks in his life.

Stiles swung his legs over the side of the bed and his feet touched the cold floor. He sighed and pushed himself up and off the bed. He walked a couple steps before he heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. Immediately knowing that it was his mate, he stopped and waited. Derek opened that door gingerly and poked his head in, seeing if Stiles was awake.

He knew that Derek heard him get up, but the gesture was so kind and comforting that a small smile spread across his face. Derek looked up at him and without delay rushed to Stiles and buried his face into his mate's neck. Stiles raised his arms and embraced Derek's shoulders, hands spread out on his back. Derek's arms wound around Stiles' waist and pulled him flush against his body.

The combined heat of their bodies caused Stiles to sweat a little but he didn't want to let go of Derek. Before he knew it, Derek was kissing Stiles, soft at first, but urgently as the seconds passed. The contact was heated within minutes and both were breathless when they came up for air.

"We-we need… Get rid of the shirt, now." Stiles panted out. Derek nodded and pulled the shirt over his head as Stiles did the same.

They crashed together again and Stiles was led to the bed as Derek pushed him backwards. Gently, Derek lay Stiles down and he on top of him. After a while, both were canting their hips against each other, craving the friction they so desperately needed.

"Stiles, I um…" Derek started nervously but was interupted by the cry of Stiles. His body shuddered and befor eStiles could come down, Derek was there with him. Both whimpered quietly to each other as their heartbeats slowed and Derek gave Stiles on last kiss before he went to grab a towel from the bathroom.

Derek came back and cleaned them both until they were spotless. All Stiles could do was wonder, what the hell just happened?


End file.
